If I don’t I’ll just keep walking around my quiet little condo, narrating in my head. Sometimes in British accents.

And, though listening is important, if I never speak at all, am I really part of the conversation? I suppose this is utterly confusing and the best way to ditch the 6 followers I probably still have. So for those of you readers (if “you” even exist) who are lost, here you go: For me (and many others I think) to read is to listen; to write is to speak; to live without the conversation is to never fully live.

I could start every post with “it’s been too long.”
But I don’t want to.

I want to write.

Am I ready?
Nope. I’m not ready. Never ready.
And it’s embarrassing to know that I’m not sure I’m doing this well, not sure I’ll ever reach beyond this little blog. But at least I will not grow numb to the conversation. I will will not forfeit the few words I have that must be heard. And most importantly, I will hear what hundreds of thousands have joined in on throughout all of history. And what a beautiful, strange sound it is.